


Naked Popsicle Time

by Telesilla



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Kiss, First Time, Food Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-14
Updated: 2007-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-05 04:31:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Popsicles can lead to sex and nudity. Who knew?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naked Popsicle Time

Atlantis was experiencing one of its occasional summer heat waves. They never lasted long, but Rodney hated them with a passion. When he'd worked at Area 51, he'd perfected the art of going from an air conditioned apartment to an air conditioned car to an air conditioned lab, with the occasional side trip to an air-conditioned restaurant or bar. He'd liked the cold in Antarctica and his complaints about Siberia had more to do with the food and the fact that it was fucking exile than the weather. But 'Lantea....

"This isn't climate control," he said, fanning himself with a handful of paperwork as he watched the sun set.

"The windows are open; that counts as climate control around here," Sheppard said, coming up behind him. "You could go hang out in the 'gateroom or one of the computer rooms. Or you could just wait; it'll cool down in another hour anyway."

"They kicked me out," Rodney muttered. "Chuck's a goddamned traitor."

"Well," Sheppard said with a shrug, "he's from Vancouver and you know how _they_ are."

"Oh very funny," Rodney replied rolling his eyes. He was too hot to really manage more of a come-back and for once Sheppard didn't seem inclined to give him too hard a time.

"I know just what you need."

"Colonel, last time you said that it took almost a week to get all the Jello off the lab floor and I thought Elizabeth was going to send both of us to bed without any supper."

"It was a pretty cool Jello fight though, wasn't it?"

"What are you, twelve?" Rodney suspected his glare was missing something when John just grinned at him. And really, it had been a pretty cool Jello fight.

"No Jello fights," Sheppard said. "Nothing to get us into trouble with Elizabeth, I promise."

"Fine," Rodney said, which was how he found himself dangling his feet in the water as he sat on the lowest of a series of steps near the south pier.

"Okay," he said, "I'll admit it: this isn't half bad as your ideas go."

"Don't overwhelm me with flattery there," Sheppard said. "And anyway, I'm not done." He reached over and opened the cooler he'd brought with him. Rodney could see ice packs and a number of bright purple...things. "No citrus, not even any citric acid," he added, handing one of the things over to Rodney.

"Oh my God, you _are_ twelve," Rodney said. Sheppard started to pull the popsicle back. "In a totally good way," Rodney continued quickly. "No really, twelve's a good age for you, you need to stay with it."

"Well...." Sheppard held the popsicle out of reach for a moment and then grinned and gave in. "Here," he said.

"Mmmm...pavlish berry," Rodney murmured after the first tentative lick. He loved pavlish berry juice and right now he was ready to kiss whoever had had the brilliant idea of freezing it.

Particularly if that person just happened to be John Sheppard.

Shoving the thought aside, Rodney licked his popsicle, closing his eyes savoring the sweet/tart taste of the pavlish berry juice and the icy coldness of it. He hummed a little as he licked over the top of it; this was really, seriously good and he had to find a way to thank both Sheppard and whoever on the kitchen staff came up with the idea and the mold.

His eyes flew open when he heard a strangled cough. Sheppard was staring at him, his mouth slightly open and his popsicle dripping all over his hand.

"What?"

"Um...you...with the popsicle," John said. "You seem to be...um...enjoying it."

 

Rodney frowned for another second and then he suddenly got it.

"It's a very good popsicle," he said, licking the bottom to catch a couple of drips. "Really," he added glancing at Sheppard as he licked his way back up to the top. "Good," he said before lowering his mouth over the popsicle and sucking on it.

"Jesus, Rodney," Sheppard said, a little breathlessly.

His lips still wrapped around the popsicle, Rodney kept moving down on it, letting the cold tip push against the back of his throat for a moment while he hollowed his cheeks around it and looked at Sheppard through his eyelashes. _Oh yeah, you want me._

Pulling his mouth away with a slurp, Rodney looked at Sheppard and licked his lips. "Something wrong, Colonel?"

"John," Sheppard said hoarsely. "It's John." He suddenly seemed to realize that his own popsicle was mostly melted and had dripped all over his hands and wrists. "Um...."

"Let me," Rodney said, reaching for John's hand. His heart was racing now, because flirting aside, this was a moment they'd been moving toward for some time and it was just like them to have it happen while they sat, pant legs rolled up, on a set of stairs.

For a moment it felt like John wasn't going to let go, and Rodney took a deep breath and tugged just a little harder.

John's hands and fingers were long; Rodney had noticed that almost right away because he had a thing for nice hands and John's were damn nice. Now, sticky and dripping with pavlish juice, they were fucking perfect, and Rodney took two of John's fingers into his mouth and began to slowly lick them clean.

"Oh God...oh fuck...Rodney," John moaned and Rodney sucked harder, wanting to hear more. _God, if he sounds like this when I'm just working on his fingers, what'll he sound like when I've got his cock in my mouth?_

In spite of his eagerness to make that happen, Rodney kept working over John's fingers, tossing both of their popsicles to the side. It was only when he'd licked all the juice away from both hands and wrists that Rodney eased himself down a step or two. Hissing a little as the cold water hit his knees, he moved between John's legs, undoing John's belt and fly impatiently.

And God , but if he'd thought John's hands were perfect, John's dick was fucking fantastic, hard and thick and curving just a little to the left. And yeah, John was as hairy down here as he was everywhere else, but Rodney really didn't care much as he licked a long stripe from base to tip. It was easy to tease John, easy to treat his cock like it was a popsicle: Rodney licked it, lapping at the tip and humming just a little whole above him John moaned and his hands gripped the edge of the step.

Reaching out, Rodney took one of John's hands and moved it right above his head. "It's okay," he said before slowly sliding his mouth down the length of John's cock. John's fingers hesitated, moving restlessly through Rodney's hair until Rodney swallowed hard around the head of John's dick. Moaning a little at the feel of John's hand tight on his head, Rodney went still, letting John's hand and hips determine the pace.

"God," John groaned. "You're so...are you sure...oh fuck!" He was moving now, fucking Rodney's mouth hard and oh God, but Rodney'd missed this, missed a hard cock in his mouth, missed the feeling of all but choking on it. John's other hand fumbled over Rodney's shoulder before clamping down as if in warning and then, with a harsh sound, he came, flooding Rodney's mouth with the familiar bitter taste.

"Oh God, oh God," John mumbled, his hands falling to the side. Rodney chuckled a little and nuzzled his hip.

"Been a while if you're actually calling me God."

"Shut up and get up here," John said, tugging at Rodney's arm ineffectively. He kissed Rodney then, licking into Rodney's mouth as if starved for the taste of his own come. He was good enough at the whole kissing thing that he managed to get Rodney's pants undone and shoved around Rodney's hips before Rodney really noticed.

"How do you like it?" John asked. "What do you do all alone at night in bed...or in the morning in the shower." His fingers moved carefully over Rodney's cock.

"Hard," Rodney gasped. "Right now...hard and fast and oh fuck, John c'mon and just...fuck yeah, like that." John's hand closed over him hard and rough, all calluses and competence, and it almost hurt except that it didn't because holy fuck it had been so long since it had been anyone's hand but his own that Rodney had forgotten what it was like to feel someone else touch him and oh Jesus but John was fucking brilliant at this and everything Rodney had ever imagined while watching John fly or strip guns or even type on a keyboard was nothing compared to this and if John just kept it going for another....

He came with a strangled groan, batting John's hand away almost the second it was over.

"Sensitive," John said, sounding amused. "I'll need to remember that."

"Like I'd let you forget," Rodney mumbled. Kicking off his pants and boxers, he lounged back on the stair, dangling his feet in the water. "Please don't tell me you only packed two popsicles."

"Would I do that," John said. He shimmied out of his clothes and gave Rodney a look as he reached for the cooler. "You still have your shirt on. You need to take it off; these are naked popsicles."

"So twelve," Rodney muttered as he pulled his shirt off and held his hand out. John reached for it and kissed Rodney's palm before handing him a popsicle.

"Shut up, Rodney," he said, "and eat your popsicle."

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "John/Rodney, popsicles" from [belletrist](http://belletrist.livejournal.com/). Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go get myself a ~~death~~ lemon popsicle, seeing as our temp hit the triple digits for the first time this year.


End file.
